


Gasoline

by burn_23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Bottom!Ian, For the boys at least, Happish Ending, M/M, Smut, Top!Mickey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burn_23/pseuds/burn_23
Summary: Ian finally realized why hurricanes were named after people. It didn't take a genius to know Monica Gallagher was her very own tropical storm.





	Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is a different version of season 2 episode 11. Mickey got out of juvie earlier in this one. And his and Ian's relationship was a bit more progressed. There's use of other scenes from other seasons too. So this doesn't really take place in season two. Also, Sammi doesn't exist and Mickey never went to prison or Mexico.

”I’m gonna go wash my hands.”

Ian gave his ‘mother’ a quick nod watching her walk into the kitchen before turning his attention back onto the food being passed around the table. Thanksgiving has always been one of his favorite holidays. It was a time where their household felt somewhat normal, as normal as things could be when you lived on the southside of Chicago. Monica was their surprise this year, but Ian couldn't remember the last time he had actually seen her. This time felt different. She had taken him to a gay club, where men triple his age felt the need to grind against him until Ian would excuse himself. But even through the fun he knew it wasn't going to last. She would leave in a few days and the household would go back to its normal routine. There was still an odd feeling clenching in his gut though, and it was one he had been trying to shake ever since Monica arrived. He just couldn't place his finger on it.

Ian was shaken from his thoughts when he heard the loud thump in the kitchen. Both his eyebrows shot up in curiosity before he glanced at Fiona who was already out of her seat. He followed closely behind the older Gallagher, stopping short when he heard Kev.

“Holy fuck.”

The redhead frowned before he looked down, feeling his heart stop when he saw the sight before him. There was Monica, sitting in a pool of her own blood barely breathing. Her eyes were heavy lidded as she thrashed against the cabinet panting heavily. Ian was frozen in his spot. He could hear Fiona on the phone, trying to explain to the ambulance what exactly it was that had happened, but all Ian could really see was Monica, arms covered in blood as Jimmy/Steve tried to wrap her arms in towels.

He seemed to come back to Earth when he heard multiple people calling out for Frank. Frank grab her legs, Frank get some more towels. Who the fuck thought Frank would be any help in the first place. Ian watched Frank leave. Of course he would leave, that's what he's always been good at.

Ian finally moved, ripping open the drawers by the sink grabbing a few towels tossing them towards Kev and Steve. At least Kev was there to hold down her legs.

Lip. Where the fuck was Lip?

So much was going through Ian's head he didn't know if it was ever going to stop. His fingers curled around a towel before he turned his eyes onto Monica who was already watching him. This wasn't right, nothing good was going to come out of this. Time after time he had given his hopes up when Monica reappeared, but this time it was different. She had always held a softer spot for Ian. She always told everyone that he was her baby boy, her sunshine on a bad day, the one she knew would always be there when she needed someone the most. Right now though, right now Ian felt like he was suffocating. He needed to get out of this kitchen and out of this house. Now he understood why Frank was so quick to walk away.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Ian tore his eyes away from Monica and he stood taking a heavy breath. He could see blood on his shoes now. How could one person bleed this much? His mind wouldn't stop racing.

Mickey.

Mickey was what Ian needed. Ian almost forgot Mickey was mad at him. Some stupid argument they had a few days ago that left Mickey storming out of the dugout yelling at Ian go never fucking talk to him again.

Fuck that.

Ian moved past Fiona then, limbs shaking as he grabbed his coat opening the back door.

“Ian, where are you going?”

He almost didn't hear Fiona, but at the last moment he shook his head slamming the door shut behind him. He could barely breathe in that house. He couldn't sit there anymore with Monica staring at him like she was trying to apologize. He could feel unwanted tears burning in his eyes. He wasn't going to cry. There was nothing to cry about.

His hands shook as she scrolled through his contacts letting out a breath of relief when he found Mickey's contact under, ‘Bigbooty’ of course because Ian was an asshole like that. His legs carried him through the neighborhood on their own, and Ian let out a growl of frustration when Mickey didn't answer.

So he called five more times.

And he was ignored five more times.

“C’mon Mick, where the fuck are you?”

He didn't even realize where he was until his eyes found their way up. He paused when he realized he was at the Milkovich household. Weighing his options he finally decided to say fuck it and knocked on the door quickly. He knew it was late, but he couldn't seem to care right now.

“The fuck you want, Princess?”

Ian almost groaned when the door swung open.

“Fuk off, Iggy. Mickey home?”

He glanced down as he felt Iggy watching. He could tell the older boy was about to fuck with him. Tell him Mickey ran off or just slam the door in his face entirely. But apparently the universe had other plans.

“Nah, pretty sure he mumbled some shit about drinking at the Alibi tonight. He's been pissy ever since Monday. You the reason why, Gallagher?”

Ian wanted to scream. He couldn't just show up at the Alibi and ask Mickey to come with him. Mickey would literally kill him. They might be seen in public every so often, but right now Ian didn't think he would be able to stop himself from throwing himself into Mickey's arms.

“Probably, I dunno. Isn't Mickey pissy about ninety nine percent of the time?”

As he made his way down the steps he stopped short when he heard Iggy once more.

“I don't give a shit where or who you stick your dick in, but if I have to hear ‘nine inches, fuckin’ stupid alien ginger,’ one more time I will personally come to wherever you are and beat your ass. Don't wanna know what your gigantic ass is packin’. I already knew shits been goin’ on since we robbed that crazy drunk lady, but still.”

Ian almost choked on air at the words. They had been so secretive. No one had seen them. They only showed their affection when they were at the dugout, home alone, or at the abandoned buildings. Iggy wasn't as dumb as everyone tried to make him seem though. Ian knew that much. He was always the one who would help Fiona with her homework before she had to leave school.

Ian just shook his head before dragging a hand through his fire colored hair.

“If he comes back will you tell him to come to the abandoned buildings? He'll know which ones I'm talking about. Asshole won't answer my fucking calls.”

Iggy nodded before cocking a brow. “You good, Gallagher? You're lookin’ a little paler than usual.”

Ian nodded quickly as he jogged down the stairs. There was no way in hell he was going to sit here and talk about his feelings to Iggy Milkovich.

* * *

  
It didn't take him long to get out to the buildings. Mickey wasn't there of course, it had only taken him ten minutes to get from the Milkovich residence to their spot. The mattress they had stolen from the dumpster of the furniture store was still there, one white sheet covering it. The sheet was dirty of course, with dirt, cum, beer, and whatever else could get onto it. It was disgusting, but it was still theirs.

Ian dropped onto the concrete floor beside the mattress closing his eyes. His shoulders sagged as he sat there, pressing his palms against his eyelids letting out a strangled breath. He finally realized why hurricanes were named after people. It didn't take a genius to know Monica Gallagher was her very own tropical storm. This time around just seemed to good to be true. Monica had been acting like a normal human. Taking them all out, watching movies with Carl and Debbie, playing with Liam when he was fussy, and she even tried helping Fiona out a few times, even though Fiona didn't take it.

Even though she was rarely around, Ian couldn't imagine a universe where Monica didn't exist. It didn't seem right. Not seeing her once a year or every few years didn't seem right. Monica couldn't die. Ian might not like her, and she might have just given birth and left them, but he didn't want her to die. But now he had no choice but to think she was dead. Hell maybe she already was dead. Ian didn't want to know yet. He wasn't going to accept the fact that she could've bled out on their kitchen floor.

“Fuck you doin’ here, Firecrotch? Thought you had family shit tonight or whatever.”

Ian dropped his hands quickly dropping them to the ground as his head shot up and he shook his head.

“Got cut short.”

“The fuck did Frank do now huh? Shouldn't you guys be immune to his bullshit by now? Because when I left the Alibi he came in lookin’ like dogshit.”

Letting out a unhumorous laugh Ian shook his head.

“Wasn't Frank this time.”  
  
Mickey arched a brow as he lit a joint, handing it over to the redhead after he took a drag.

“Oh yeah? Who was it this time then? Fuckin’ Santa?”

Ian let out a snort as he rolled his eyes taking his own long drag of the joint as he pressed his head against the brick wall.

“Fucking Monica. Shows up once a year to fuck up our lives then leaves again. Though I doubt she's coming back this time.”

Ian didn't realize his hands were shaking until Mickey grabbed the joint and pressed his free hand to Ian's leg.

“Hey, chill the fuck out and tell me what happened, Gallagher. You're freaking me the fuck out over here.”

The younger boy shook his head as he felt those unshed tears make their way back to the surface causing him to let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“She slashed her fucking wrist in the kitchen while we were eating. I couldn't really stay there so I called you, and of course you didn't answer me. So I went by your house, and Iggy was there. You know he knows about us, right?”

Mickey took a longer drag from the joint before he nodded.

“Dumbass thinks I didn't overhear him telling Collin and Joey when I came home a few weeks ago. They don't know that I know, but they're definitely on our side,” Mickey paused before letting out a breath.

“Monica. Do you uh, do you think she's going to be okay? You know I'm not good with this shit, Firecrotch.”

Ian couldn't stop the soft giggle that fell from between his lips as he dried off his unwelcome tears. He always loved seeing the side of Mickey no one else got the fortune of seeing. The side that made sure you were okay, that made sure you had everything you needed. Though neither boy had said it before it was evident they were in love with one another. There was no denying it anymore. Anyone was smart enough to notice the affection the two held for one another. Even Franks dumbass would be able to figure it out.

Ian was interrupted by his own thoughts when Mickey nudged his knee to pass the joint. Taking it between his fingers he shrugged.

“Don't know what I think anymore honestly. Can't decide if my world would be better or worse without her being around to fuck us all over and up once every so often.”

Mickey was quiet for a while after that. The redhead let himself get lost in his own thoughts. Ones that left him feeling numb and useless. The feelings he got when he needed to feel at least an ounce alive. He needed to feel something, anything at this point. He jumped when he felt a warm palm press against his shoulder causing his cheeks to flush crimson.

“You okay there, Gallagher.”

Ian thought about lying at first. Thought that he should just brush Mickey off and go home to wallow in his feelings alone, but he hadn't seen Mickey in days. Right now all he wanted was to feel Mickey. He needed Mickey more than even he realized, but now it was becoming clear. His mind was racing as he shook his head clearing his suddenly dry through.

“Actually, not really no. I feel numb, like this is all some kind of weird dream that won't end. I need to feel something.”

He could feel the blue eyed boys eyes trying to decipher him, but Ian didn't want to give him the time. He needed Mickey. There was really no other way around it. Clearing his throat Ian spoke up.

“Fuck me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! It would be appreciated.


End file.
